


P.S. I Hate You

by Ahigheroctave



Category: Sonny with a Chance
Genre: F/M, Love Letters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-16
Updated: 2009-05-16
Packaged: 2017-11-17 13:54:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/552272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ahigheroctave/pseuds/Ahigheroctave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Would it kill you to stop flirting with Portlyn? The last thing you need is another girl to dump via text message." In which Sonny and Chad's dance from Promises, Prom-misses ends up on Youtube.</p>
            </blockquote>





	P.S. I Hate You

_Dear conceited jerk face,_

_I am too angry at you to use your real name. You're stupid three word name. Seriously, can't you just let the middle name thing go? It's so very Jonathan Taylor Thomas. And you wanna know what? He pulled it off better than you and he was short! And he went to college instead of "acting"! And you and your big hair probably couldn't even get into college, let alone Harvard like him. And no-one is ever, ever, going to say CDC the way they say JTT. You'll just be some wash-up like that blond kid from Silver Spoons…or the older brother from Leave It to Beaver. Huh, whatever happened to him? Well that, my frenemy, will be you in ten years!_

_I guess I should get to the point. I'm sitting here across the room from you rambling, albeit truthfully about your stupid self, and you're having your stupid blueberry pie and not noticing I exist. And would it kill you to stop flirting with Portlyn? Or maybe she's flirting with you, I don't really know. But it's not like you need yet another girl to dump via text message. Or are you actually going to make sure she dies in that tragic hot air balloon accident so you don't have to face her later on set? How do I already know the answer to that?_

_That isn't the point either. I can't believe you. No, that's not true. I can believe you one hundred and twenty percent, probably more than that…I don't believe me. I can't believe I actually thought you were a different boy than the one who sold me down the river to get press or posted about our fake kiss on your blog. I didn't think that you'd let the cameras roll while…I can't believe there's a video of us dancing at prom on your Youtube. And it just proves I was right, all proms do end in disaster. Because I didn't get to have that perfect dance with that one special person. And it turns out he doesn't exist. Just you. And like I said, it's my fault for making you into something you weren't. You were honest with me about who you are from the start. Can you just do me one favor? Can you please be honest with yourself?_

_Sonny_

_P.S. I hate you._

So she crumpled up her note and threw it at his big stupid head. She made sure he saw it was her before motioning for him to pick it up and walking out of the cafeteria. It took him a second to process what had just happened before he picked the little ball up and carefully unfolded it. Except then he noticed that his stupid airhead costar was reading over his shoulder so he had to go to his dressing room. Then he read it. And he had to read it again, because she couldn't have just said that. Or that… all of it was just to impossible. It took another six or so times to sink in. Sonny liked him.

He'd dreamed about this…or plotted more technically. He'd wanted to be able to break her. Other girls were so stupid and delicate and fragile, or they were smart and ugly. He had yet to come upon a smart, funny, cute girl like her before. Girls were only ever what he wanted them to be before, either from complete idiocy or low self-esteem. Sonny was…Sonny was…this. Even this. He didn't know how to process a confession letter that seemed to insult him as much as it did flatter him. Was she really admitting to liking him or just trapping him to get him back for the prom video? It was Sonny though…he didn't think she would lie. She was too innocent.

So he set himself down to write his reply.

_Dear stupid sunshine,_

_I despise your stupid bubbly, smiley self to much to use your real name. What kind of name is Sonny anyways? You're either Cher's dead ex or a weather forecast. And no once likes to watch the weather. And even less people like Cher, except drag queens. My mother says all drag queens beg to look like Cher (she's a plastic surgeon). Anyway, no-one makes it in Hollywood with a name like Sonny. So why don't you just use Allison? Yes, I know about that. Maybe I'll write it on my blog later, it'd do wonders for your career really. Just as having me steal your press does, everyone wants a piece of McKenzie Falls, and don't pretend your any different. Before you crashed my party, your little friend Lucy regaled me with a wonderful story about how you used to refer to yourself as Mrs. Chad Dylan Cooper and you never missed a show. And let me tell you, if you want to marry me. You have to take my middle name too. Which you wouldn't anyways, because I'd never ask you…but whatever._

_And I will flirt with Portlyn, or any other girl I so choose, all I want. It's how I get out of paying for my own lunch everyday. Don't get your panties in a twist because you're all jealous. And I never canceled that accident for her, just changed it. She's going to fall off a fire escape on this year's season finale. And I get to be the one to push her. And I have only dumped girls who deserved it through text messages, like you said, I never pretend to be anything I'm not._

_I'm going to do you a favor, a small one, and be honest. I did not post that Youtube video. I don't even have a Youtube, I have a Twitter, I have a Myspace, but no Youtube. I don't know how it got there. And I'm sorry it hurt your feelings but it's not fair to blame me. I don't want it there either, and there are very few moments I want off-camera. I just wanted to be able to…or maybe not to, I didn't want to act. I just wanted to be around you for a little while and not need an excuse. Like you needing a fake date or having to kill your boss's budding romance with your teacher. I wasn't lying when I said I like you Sonny. And at least the world saw the real you this time._

_Chad_

Except, as he looked down at the piece of paper in front of him, he realized he could never send it. Not only did the fact that he'd written it confirm he was more than just a pretty-faced teen soap star, but it also gave away something else, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. If he had to guess he'd probably say power. So he pulled open his desk drawer and took out the monogrammed scissors sitting in there, carefully taking the blade and shredding the letter to pieces too small to read before placing it in the trash. He picked up another piece of stationary and started writing again.

_Dear peppy, hyper Sonshine,_

_I don't have a Youtube so stop pestering me with your stupid girly emotional bursts about it and follow me on Twitter instead._

_Chad Dylan Cooper_

_P. S. I hate you too._


End file.
